


Sleepover

by brorotica



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sleepovers, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-27
Updated: 2012-07-27
Packaged: 2017-11-10 20:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/470350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brorotica/pseuds/brorotica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Melissa gets home in the morning, she finds them on the couch, wrapped in a decorative throw blanket and wearing only their boxers. She's known, of course, that their sleepovers have been getting decidedly more adult, but she sighs anyway and grabs a few more blankets from the linen closet, piling them on both boys and vowing to never, ever mention this to the sheriff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepover

**Author's Note:**

> Pre-series. Scott and Stiles are sixteen, so they're underage. Making out, mentions of handjobs. Explicit language.

Scott wakes up to a tapping on his window, his eyes fluttering open in the darkness. He groans and rolls over in bed, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest that always accompanies coming awake. His asthma is getting ridiculous as of late, nearly incapacitating, and Scott reaches for his inhaler, taking a few puffs of the medicine before turning on his bedside lamp. The tapping increases, like moths are banging against the glass or something. Sharp moths that sound more like fingernails. Scott realizes immediately who it must be and slides out of bed still in his boxers, walking over to the window and looking through the glass at Stiles, who is perched rather precariously on the sill. Maybe he thinks he's Batman or something.

Scott just stares at him for a moment, yawning and stretching as he attempts to come fully awake, and Stiles glares at him, waiting. He doesn't dare bang against the window for fear of waking Melissa, provided she's home. Stiles tries to time his trips over here for nights where she's at work, but it's a little difficult when he can't get his hands on her schedule. Scott finally tugs open the window and grins as Stiles slides into the room, hitting Scott on the side. "Man, you suck. It's fucking freezing out there."

"You'll be all right," Scott says, laughing as he sits down on his bed. "My mom's not here. You could have used the door."

"It's more Romeo and Juliet this way," Stiles snaps back, dropping down beside Scott and sprawling out on the bed. "More forbidden when I crawl through your window, you know?"

"Oh, very. I appreciate it."

Stiles grins and rolls over, stomach against Scott's thigh. "So your mom isn't home, and I'm in your bed freezing cold and all chapped from the wind, and you haven't invited me to take my clothes off yet. Rude, much?"

"You'll live." Scott lays back beside Stiles, looking at his best friend with an eyebrow arched. He isn't going to be the guy who brings it up first, even though Stiles clearly came over here for a reason. He's comfortable with Stiles, doesn't feel like he's got to put up some weird front or try to play himself up more than he has to, something he does even when he's with his mother. 

"We're totally alone, man. We don't have to spend the whole time in your room. There's the kitchen, the bathroom, the living room... your mom's bed."

Scott hits Stiles on the shoulder, making a face as the other teenager snorts with laughter. "Oh, gross!"

"You're clearly bored with the bed, so don't make me suggest other places!" Stiles protests, and Scott sighs, rolling onto his side and pressing his mouth to the tip of Stiles' nose. It isn't a very romantic gesture as much as an affectionate one, and Stiles wrinkles his nose up in response like Scott's doing something nasty, but Scott pulls back a moment later, an eyebrow arched.

"I'm not bored with anything."

"You sound obsessed or something," Stiles says, but a moment later he's in Scott's lap, legs on either side of the other boy's hips. "You're not going to ask, are you?"

"Are you?" Scott echoes, and Stiles shrugs, draping his arms around Scott's neck and leaning in.

When he wants to play it up, Stiles can be seductive as hell, and at that moment, his teeth scraping over Scott's neck and his voice little more than a hoarse whisper, Scott can feel his cock starting to tent in the front of his boxers. "I want you to fuck me," Stiles murmurs, and Scott wonders if maybe he's just teasing until Stiles has a hand on his dick. "I want you to fuck me until I scream."

"Stiles, jeez," Scott hisses, running his hands over Stiles' chest and hips before slipping his fingers under the hem of his hoodie, touching his flat but soft stomach. "You can't just ask normally? I don't want you to scream."

"You're so vanilla," Stiles complains, and he wriggles in Scott's lap in an absolutely infuriating way. "I bet you don't even want to fuck me."

"Not really." Stiles' skin is cold, and Scott really just wants to warm him up right now. He doesn't want to pull some porn shit and screw his best friend into the bed, at least not right now. "You're super cold. I just want to make out until my mom comes home."

"So I'm spending the night? Thank god. I didn't want to have to go outside again." Stiles hooks his fingers in the bottom of his hoodie and tugs it up over his head, dropping it on the ground beside Scott's bed. "Come on, you can at least undress me."

"Don't you get tired of being so horny all the time?" Scott obliges, though, pulling Stiles' shirt off and touching his chest lightly. "You're still cold. You're like a snake or something, man."

"Gotta heat me up," Stiles says, and he pushes Scott down on the bed, leaning over and kissing him slowly on the mouth. Scott smiles into the kiss and parts his lips, one hand going to the back of Stiles' head as he tugs him closer. Stiles is vocal as hell, and while he's the only person Scott's ever kissed until this point, he's pretty sure most people don't moan like this just from kissing. Stiles sounds like he's being fucked just while he's being kissed, and it's kind of super hot.

They're both rather sloppy kissers, Stiles' tongue wrapping around Scott's as he sucks on it lightly, and Scott groans before pulling away, a string of saliva still connecting their mouths. "I want to suck your cock," Stiles says, and Scott just blinks at him before frowning slightly.

"That's no good for you."

"Says who? Maybe I like it."

"Whose cock have you sucked before?" Scott asks suspiciously, and Stiles just glares at him.

"No one's, but maybe it'll be fun. I'm tired of just kissing and shit. I want to do more. Your hand is great and all, dude, but I have one too and it's not exactly a novel experience."

Scott goes quiet for a few moments before his frown deepens. "I didn't shower today."

"Oh, come on. That's the lamest fucking excuse."

"My balls probably taste like sweat."

"Your balls are the least of my problems."

"Stiles, come on, man, let's just make out or something. I'm not ready for this shit."

"Fine," Stiles says, and it's more resolute than it is upset. "Someday?"

"Maybe." Scott runs his hands over Stiles' sides, pausing at his hips and looking at him from his spot on the bed. If he can't even admit to maybe fucking Stiles someday- the guy he trusts more than anything, the only person aside from his mom who's ever seen him naked- then he's got a real problem. "Definitely," he finally amends, and Stiles grins, kissing him on the mouth again.

When Melissa gets home in the morning, she finds them on the couch, wrapped in a decorative throw blanket and wearing only their boxers. She's known, of course, that their sleepovers have been getting decidedly more adult, but she sighs anyway and grabs a few more blankets from the linen closet, piling them on both boys and vowing to never, ever mention this to the sheriff.


End file.
